Not Thoughtless
by dreadlockedpencil
Summary: Explaining one's feelings is difficult. If you were to look in the minds of random people, I'm sure you would find them very complicated. Or maybe incredibly simple. Different thoughts of different people in Middle Earth.
1. Before Battle

Hey everyone!

I'm kind of upset about a review I got on one of my other stories. I got seven reviews for a new story (removed now) and 3 were good, 2 didn't say anything about the story, they jsut said what my story was (mary sue apparently) one critisized me (constructively) but one was really really mean! They said I had no talent whatsoever, the story was tired, I didn't know anything about illnesses, I had the imagination of a tick and I was utterly stupid for thinking I could write! It made me so upset!

I don't mind it when ppl tell me how to improve, and I think flames that are really really stupid are funny, for example, I have an anime story and it makes fun of the characters and I've said that many times, so when a person requested I write about a certain character, I obliged and did it. Then they flamed me for making fun of the character! That made me laugh.

Anyhow, this is just a one-shot of the feelings of an anonymous person just before and through the battle at the end of the LOTR (final battle). Don't bother me about spelling though, because I don't give a damn about it. This might be really short.

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR.

It was time for battle. I stood alongside my friends and comrades, seeing and feeling the enemy approach. The ground shook under the weight of the cast army which drew nearer to us.

Focusing all my energy on the task at hand, I moved my fingers, warming them for the fight to come.

It was this or nothing. This time, you either won or lost, there was no in between. It was the final battle. If we were victorious, the world would celebrate, but if we lost, the consequences would be grave. This war would end it all.

The air swirled around us, the blood-red sun bearing down on us all ominously.

Grasped the hilt of my sword firmly, I drew it out of it's sheath.

Anticipatation and dread is what filled me when I thought of the first blow that would land with my first swing.

The opposing army drew closer and closer, and closer yet.

Everyone around me was preparing for battle.

The army before us halted several units away from us.

I heard our leader yell words of encouragement.

Then the cry of battle.

There was a roar of enragement and everyone charged forward.

Arrows flew, slicing the darknening sky.

There were yells of agony ringing out as numerous people fell in pain.

The feeling of grief for those who fell overwhelmed me as I thought that I would be next.

Looking to the heavens, I begged for mercy.

Caught off my guard, I felt a sword stab through my stomach, sealing my fate.

I dropped to my knees, not even feeling the pain as two orc-arrows nestled themselves into my thigh.

It was the end.

My life slipped away as a great black eagle soared over my head, it's cries echoing agony.

Feeling weak and tired, I let go of everything and slipped into the darkness.

A/N: So what did you think. I might continue this with thoughts of other people before and throughout battle, depending on the reviews I get. 


	2. Holding On

I've decided to continue this story. It won't be much of a story, it'll just be random thoughts of random people at random times.

Now, in reply to a review I got, I think that the feeling no pain thing was unrealistic also, but it could happen. I'm sure he felt pain in some way, but he was just so numb. It's like in Africa, some people get abducted, and their captors usually mutilate them. I read a story about one girl, and she was abducted and they sawed off her arms and she just wandered around in shock, not saying anything and she would've died if she hadn't stumbled upon a village. But I dunno. I just write what comes into my head.

This is the thoughts of a woman waiting for her husband to return from battle. It's a rather old tale, women waiting, but I believe that it was a truly painful time. Imagine what it would be like to have someone you love so much that you have dedicated your life to them, only to have them ripped away from you.

Disclaimer: I don't own. It.

"I'm finished mother!" exclaimed Marisal. Without question, I got up and took her plate away.

Placing hers and my own plate in a half-filled basin in the corner of the room.

Marisal left to play with Strianna, our 14-year-old donkey and close friend.

I ran my rough hands over the grainy dishes, scrubbing them as best I could without bruising my palms.

Soft, bitter tears escaped unwillingly out of the corners of my eyes and left salty trails down my cheeks.

"When will you come home, Finavarra?" I whispered to myself. "And Annar?"

The plates clattered in the basin as I angrily dropped them, the scalding water splashing up into my face, burning it slightly.

It wasn't fair. Our husbands and sons should not be sent to a war they cannot win. It is murder.

"Mommy," said Marisal in a worried voice. "why are you crying?"

I tried to smile up at her, trying to appear brave for her sake. "I just feel a little sick, Marisal."

SHe ran over to me and kissed me gently on the cheek.

I drew her onto my lap and cradled ehr gently, running my fingers through her soft blonde hair.

"It will be alright Mommy." she said. "The bad things will be over."

Smiling gently, I sent her to her bed to sleep. SHe should not stay up for my sake.

I picked the plate sout of the basin and dried them with my torn apron. Then I stacked them on our small table.

Our family is broken. I have little hope left that my husband and son will come back alive.

War is the wicked thing that tears people apart, leaving them hopeless, as I am.

It has been so long since I last saw my Fin's face. And Annar too. So long.

I can barely remember them.

I have little joy in my life, beside Marisal. She is my shinign light, my lighthouse, my preserver. She is the reason I breathe.

I only hope that Finavarra lives to see her grow. ANd that young Annar, only 19, will live to see his sister grow old.

Empty empty empty. Like the life has been sucked out of me. Numb in shock of what's happening.

But I will hold on.

Evil likes to have it's way.

Evil's partner is death, and death loves remorse.

Death also likes to have it's way.

I will not let them have their way with me.

I will hold on to what little pleasures are lef tin my life, and I will not give in to the impending sadness.

I will spite Death and Evil by living in great joy, even if I mourn in my heart.

Every morning, right before I wake up, I see my beloved men.

They are surrounding my, sittin gby me and comforting me enough to leave my bed and get up.

But alas, when I open my eyes, they have left me.

I only look forward to the mornings that I see their faces.

I long to see their real faces, but that is not for me to decide.

So until then, I have Marisal to guide me, bring me joy in my hollow pit.

And I will succeed. 


	3. Blind

Haven't updated in ages. Well, it wasn't really meant to be something that had to be updated. This was my once-in-a-while project. I'm not fishing for reviews.

This one is Gandalf.

Disclaimer: Do I really have to do this any more? Okay, okay. I don't own it.

I am old.

Old and torn.

I have lived many, many years. God, how long life seems when you're my age. You spend most of your time thinking about the past. Not only because it is familiar, but because there is so much of it. And almost nothing left of the future.

I know I am dying.

But more so, I am finishing.

Finishing my thoughts, my pain, my happiness, my sorrow.

Finishing.

People think that I can see the future.

I can't.

I can feel things coming. I can't feel them specifically, but I can get a sense, a wisp of what's about to happen.

It's like hearing that faint beat of music before learning what song.

My own demise comes soon, faster than I care to think of.

I worry.

I worry for Frodo. Such a burden. I worry for the Fellowship. I fear of its breaking apart.

I worry for the Ring.

I feel like I can put my faith into Frodo, although some may not.

And still I worry.

What will become of the world when Sauron falls? If Sauron falls.

I myself believe that the Orcs will disband. They are not intelligent. Without a leader, they will fall.

But there is no guaruntee.

Until then, we fall without really knowing where the end is.

Blind is how I feel.

To the death.

A/N: Okay, not bad. 


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